


Can't Take My Eyes off of You

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 18:25:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6669460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If she doesnt stop spinning to show the woman from the Congressional Liaisons office, whose name I have no recollection of, her curves, I am going to pass out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Take My Eyes off of You

The dress is fire engine red, though I am certainly not sure if that is the exact color or not. They always have weird names. Plum, for purple; heather for grey; even spring for green. If it were so, this one would have to be siren. If she doesn’t stop spinning to show the woman from the Congressional Liaisons office, whose name I had no recollection of, her curves, I am going to pass out. The dress has one jeweled strap and an exposed milky shoulder on the other side. It is February and she is just beginning to show the slight bump of the life growing inside her.

Nothing is sexier to me than that bump. OK, her alabaster skin comes close. She is not one of those women who fake bakes during the months the heat is on hiatus. Her skin is fair, so that may cause some serious damage. Instead it is the color of porcelain, smooth to the touch and beautiful. I know every scar she hides, like the knee that fell victim to the rip in the metal of her brother’s precious high school Volkswagen. Or the nearly invisible burn above her right elbow…a cooking experiment on the trail with Donna gone horribly awry. There is the tiny cut at her hairline that she always covers with her bangs. She never told me the story of where it came from, and I don’t feel the need to ask anymore. It disturbs me that the scar is one of three or four things that are not up for discussion. On nights when she dresses this way I could really care less.

The shoes…ah yes, the shoes. She’s wearing two-inch heels tonight, working them as if the room is a Milan catwalk. The compliments are flowing in and every time she lifts the hem of her dress for the finale, the shoes, it makes my head pound. It is a pointy shoe, with a skinny heel, and looks rather torturous, though unbearably sexy. She looks regal in them, owns them and bends them to her will. This is amazing since I know for a fact that her relationship with her legs and feet can be precarious at best.

Not tonight however; never on these nights. On these nights she dares her legs to cause her to trip, or her feet to make a misstep and ruin the slow torment of the sexy walk she’s doing across the floor just for me. Some of the other men in the room may believe it is for them too. Even if they don’t, they want to possess it. Larry loosens his tie and clears his throat. Doug Pierce from State suddenly crosses his legs as she walks past his table. Garrett Shepard, the Vice-President’s Chief of Staff, is now tongue tied. Even Sam can't control himself from watching the flow of her hips and shake of her ass as she walks across the floor with a champagne flute filled with Ginger ale. I even steal a glimpse at the President of the United States, losing his train of thought at the sight of her moving along.

Her smell still lingers every place she leaves. To me, the whole room smells of Calvin Klein Eternity. Its by the bar, at the table where Toby sits, the portico doors, surrounding Charlie as he was just on the receiving end of one of her hugs and kisses. He put his hand on her back when she kissed his cheek. Its covered tonight…I hate to see other men touch her bareback. It belongs to me. The strong shoulder blades and the straight spine are all mine. Sometimes I think she may be too thin, but that is not a concern tonight. The glow of pregnancy definitely suits her.

Its Fitz who finally drags her out on the dance floor for a waltz. I'm jealous as the Secretary of Housing and Urban Development engages me in conversation concerning housing in major cities. This is supposed to be a party; I hate this part of my job. She is laughing with him now, the laugh where she throws her head back and exposes that glorious long neck. Fitz spins her and dips her. I cannot dip her…she is much taller than I am. Now she’s calling him sailor; she does that. He seems to love it. I have never seen him as open with a person other than his wife then he is with her. She does that to men, catches them in her web. Women too, as they all clamor to be in her conversation and get a taste of the attention. She mesmerizes everyone. Of course, I am completely biased.

She’s looking at me, just noticed I have not taken my eyes off her. The dance with Fitz is over and she stands with Donna and Nora. I can tell from the look she is giving me that we will be meeting in a few minutes to discuss somewhere private to go. I will kiss her, tell her how beautiful she is, and caress her stomach.

Except now, the Deputy Secretary of State is in my face. He is pontificating about China policy. Please move; you are blocking a fantastic view. Ah, we have once again established eye contact. Sorry baby, we’ll have to reschedule our time. She just smiles, talking to Josh about whatever as he enters her field of vision. He touches her hip and I want to scream. I should be doing that. Shut the fuck up Robert, I need to go molest my wife. That’s it…I can't take it anymore.

I excuse myself to go and find her. How did she walk away so fast? Oh, there she is.

“Excuse me Michael, I need the Press Secretary.”

“Of course Mr. McGarry.”

He steps away and CJ says goodbye. She turns to me, pushing the bangs from her eyes.

“Hello Mr. McGarry, what can I do for you?”

“I need you alone right now.” I whisper. I put my hand on her arm. It makes her quiver, at least I believe it does, and it turns me on.

“For what reason sir?” she asks. “How do you suppose that we get out of here?”

“I am White House Chief of Staff; I can leave whenever I feel like it. You look so beautiful tonight.”

“You look handsome; smart and sexy in your tuxedo.” She straightens my bowtie and as usual, electricity courses through my bloodstream at her touch. “What’s the plan Stan?”

“You leave first, excuse yourself. I will meet you in your office in…” I look at my watch. “10 minutes. Possibly less if I can make it out of here.”

“What will I do to distract myself while waiting for you?”

“Be creative Claudia Jean. I will see you soon.”

She squeezes my hand and my heart rate increases. I want my mouth on hers so badly that I feel it physically.

“Leave me woman, before I am forced to humiliate myself.”

“Yes sir.”

She turns, leaving the room after a short conversation with Carol. No doubt setting up our complete privacy for at least 10 to 20 minutes. I watch her, the hips and the posture. I smile to myself, the dirty images in my head of what will be happening when I untangle myself from this room. Let someone try to stop me from getting out of here unscathed.

“Excuse me Leo?”

I cringe, turning to look at Josh.

“Yeah.”

“We have a situation.”

Dammit!

***


End file.
